


solitude is not the same as singularity

by BusinessFish



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: And to nowhere shall she return, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Martha out of nowhere, Thasmin if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BusinessFish/pseuds/BusinessFish
Summary: The Doctor is sad. Martha is there, for some reason. Yaz worries.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	solitude is not the same as singularity

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where this came from because then two of us don't know. Written pre-finale.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor said, slurring, sprawled on the bed and grinning lazily. Yaz hadn’t seen her this unguarded or content… maybe ever. Definitely not since before whatever it was she wouldn’t talk about had happened.

“Sorry for what?” she asked. The Doctor closed her eyes and cozied down even further into what was becoming a nest of blankets and pillows. Yaz hoped that Martha would know what she had been drugged with so she knew if she should be worried or not, because this was adorable and she wanted to enjoy it. She didn’t really expect an answer to her question.

“I thought that we were going to be friends,” said the Doctor, eyes still closed, her serene expression suddenly in dissonance with her words. “We are-” said Yaz, but the Doctor kept going as if she didn’t hear her. “But how could we be, when I’ve killed so many people?” She started to laugh a little, softly, and tears streaked down from the corners of her eyes. “I’ve been killing people for so long I don't even remember the first one anymore.”

“You aren’t-”

The Doctor cut her off again, clearly in her own world, looking up at Yaz with shining eyes and smiling widely. “I’ve killed everyone I’ve ever loved, so why would I want to love you?”

For a second, Yaz was struck dumb. The Doctor reached up and touched her face, fingers brushing her cheek, and said, “Maybe that means it's too late.”

Before Yaz could say anything, there was a knock on the door, and Martha came in. By the time Yaz looked back, the Doctor was asleep and looked like she had been for hours. Well… good. She needed this.

“She okay?” asked Martha, and then when Yaz only nodded slowly, added “ _You_ okay?”

“Yeah,” said Yaz, hesitant, as Martha sat on the bed with her. “She’s, uh…” Yaz watched as Martha reached out and placed her hand on the Doctor's forehead; the Doctor, apparently not as deeply asleep as she looked, leaned into the touch and hummed. “I kind of feel like I’m intruding on her privacy just by being here. The way she's been the last few weeks.”

“Was she sick at all? Vomiting or anything?” asked Martha.

“No, no kind of physical crisis,” said Yaz. “It’s kind of like she’s really drunk. She was crying though.”

Martha nodded. “Graham said she's been doing that a lot lately when she thinks that nobody will notice.” She wiped away the tear tracks on the Doctor's face with her thumbs. At this, the Doctor stirred again, blinking, then squinting up at Martha with slightly unfocused eyes and grinning when she recognized her. “I missed you, Martha,” she slurred out. “Do you remember me telling you about home?”

Yaz stayed very still. Now she _really_ felt like she was intruding. Martha smiled and kept her hand on her face, brushing her hair off her forehead and stroking her cheek. “I remember. The Shining World of the Seven Systems.”

“It’s gone,” the Doctor whispered, the words landing like bombs, searching Martha's face like she could find forgiveness there. “It burned again. I let it burn.”

Martha opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. Yaz wanted to leave the room out of courtesy but thought that might draw too much attention, so instead pretended very hard like she wasn't there. Martha looked at Yaz, then back at the Doctor, who really and truly had fallen asleep this time, breathing slowly and steadily, twin rivulets of tears flowing down from behind closed eyes. “Trees with silver leaves,” Martha said softly, breathlessly. “Oh, my god. I had no idea.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Yaz said, stunned. “Wh- she let it burn? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. She told me once before that it was gone, but... that was so long ago. I can't imagine how long it's been, for her. She said it burned _again._ "

"It's only been since the Master that she's been so... so cold."

They looked at the Doctor for a moment, buried in blankets and silently weeping. Martha took her hand and squeezed it.

"She's always carried a lot of weight on her shoulders and hates sharing it. I wish she would. I wish she understood that there are so many people willing to help her. She finds them all the time, but never quite believes she deserves it."

Not for the first time, Yaz wondered what kind of things Martha had been through with the Doctor, what they had seen together, what they had talked about. What their life had been like traveling on the TARDIS. Yaz liked Martha a lot, but meeting her made Yaz realize the scope of the Doctor's life, and it made her feel small sometimes. Especially now that the Doctor had completely closed off to them and spent more time in the depths of the ship or doing repairs than she did with them.

"What should we do?" she asked helplessly.

Martha sighed. "Let's see if she even remembers this in the morning and take it from there. The analysis didn't come back with anything dangerous to human or Time Lord physiology, so once she sleeps it off, she should be fine. Physically."

She put her hand on the Doctor's neck, taking her pulse. "She's shaking a little bit," she noted. "Might be cold, might just be exhausted. Stopped crying, anyway." She stood. "I'm going to try to get some rest. You should, too. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you stayed."

Yaz smiled up at her, then took off her shoes and crawled under the blankets. Martha smiled too, a little wistfully, maybe thinking of another bed, long ago, shared but still insurmountably distant. She watched as Yaz held the Doctor as she slept, and then she left.


End file.
